Chapter Three:
The Malfoys
"Mother, who is this girl again?" Draco trailed behind Narcissa while they headed down the hallway.
"Her name is Sylvia, dearie. She is the daughter of the Hexington family," she said.
He recognized the surname as one of the pure-blood families he had been taught to know by heart, but that's all he could recall.
"This girl is going to live with us? Why, Mother? Can't she stay with her own family?" he said.
Sighing, Narcissa turned around. "The Hexington family died back in the war, and your father and I have decided to take her in. Now, this is going to be a change for all of us, but I want you to be on your best behavior."
"Yes, Mother." He nodded.
"Good." She smiled. "I want you to look after Sylvia, for I'm sure the poor thing is nervous given what I've heard of her upbringing. A pure-blood raised by muggles, it should be illegal."
They continued down the hallway. At the end, on the right side, was Draco's room, but Narcissa walked over to the door on the left and knocked against it.
"Dobby! Are you finished yet!" she said.
The door opened, and Dobby quickly bowed to them. Draco sneered at the house-elf with disgust.
"Yes, Mistress. Dobby has completed your request," he said.
"Let me see." With the pointed front of her heel, Narcissa shoved Dobby to the side and entered the room.
Draco glanced the room over. There was nothing special about the decor, but everything had been cleaned and organized. Not one fleck of dust or misplaced item could be spotted.
"Well done, Dobby." Narcissa smiled. "Now off to the kitchen with you."
"Yes, Mistress. Dobby will go right away." He bowed again before scurrying down the hallway.
Draco folded his arms. "I'm not going to have to share my stuff with her, am I?"
"Oh, Draco. Sylvia's a young lady. Once she's here, we'll buy her her own things." She motioned him back down the hall. "Now let's hurry. They should be arriving at any moment."
….
Sylvia stared out at the vast estate before her. Malfoy Manor stood grand and tall amongst the rich countryside of Wiltshire. She followed Lucius through the wrought-iron gates that sealed off the property, her hungry gaze taking in everything around them. The courtyard had been trimmed and pruned to perfection, and strange, colorful birds that reminded Sylvia of peacock-pigeons scattered the area.
"Your home is very lovely, Mr. Malfoy," she said.
"Thank you, Sylvia." He smiled with pride. "The Malfoy family is one of the richest in the Wizarding World. We only accept the best."
"I lived with my step-family on an island outside of town. My step-parents preferred to live within simple means, but sometimes I'd get to stay at a palace when they'd visit a royal family," Sylvia said.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Your adoptive father was a monk, correct?"
"Yes." She nodded. "He's highly regarded for his work."
"How interesting," he said.
Reaching the front entrance, the door opened, and Dobby was on the other side.
"Welcome home, Master." He bowed. "The Mistress and young master are waiting in the sitting room."
"Thank you, Dobby." Lucius stepped inside.
Sylvia followed Lucius through the manor while examining her surroundings. The rooms were filled with antiques that were surely several centuries old, and everything was polished and well organized. Reaching the sitting room, Sylvia saw a woman and a young boy standing by the fireplace. They both wore elegant attire and had platinum, blond hair. In fact, the boy looked like an exact replica of Lucius.
"Lucius, there you are. I hope everything went smoothly." The woman approached them with a smile, but when she noticed Sylvia, she gasped. "My word, you look so much like your mother. I am Narcissa, but you may call me Mrs. Malfoy."
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. My name is Sylvia Hexington." She bowed. "Thank you for letting me stay in your home."
"You're very welcome, dear. And this–" Narcissa motioned the boy forward. "Is our son, Draco."
Draco's skeptic gaze glanced her over, his mouth curled into a frown. Receiving a nudge from his mother, he muttered, "It's nice to meet you, Sylvia."
"You too. Your name sounds cool by the way," Sylvia said, "Does it mean anything?"
"Dragon." He gave her a tiny smile.
"Well, it seems you two will get along just fine." Lucius looked at his wife. "Narcissa, I still have some business to attend to at the Ministry. I shall join you all later."
She kissed him on the cheek. "Of course, you have a good day, dear."
Lucius exited the room. Sylvia saw Draco sit on the right side of the couch and went to sit on the left while Narcissa sat on one of the chairs across from them.
"First things first, Sylvia. In this household, we expect proper behavior and etiquette worthy of our pedigrees." Narcissa tilted her head high. "There shall be no running, loud noises, rough-housing, or experimenting with magic unsupervised. You are allowed to play in the courtyard and gardens, but you must stay within the gates. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy." Sylvia nodded.
"Perfect. Now let me tend to a few things, and then we'll be on our way." Narcissa left the room.
Draco looked at Sylvia. "So you were raised by muggles? How did you last as long as you did? I would've run away the moment I learned how to walk."
"Oh, I–" She furrowed her brow. "I didn't know I was adopted until a few days ago. I didn't even know I was a witch, or about magic, or this world either."
"Surely you must've noticed you were different?" he said.
"I did, but they lied to me." She lowered her head. "I left to find my real family, but they're dead. I'm not sure how to feel."
"Well, I'm sorry for your loss." Draco's tone hinted concern, but it sounded forced. "And good riddance to those muggles. You're much better off with your own kind."
Narcissa entered the room. "Alright, dearies, we have loads of shopping to finish, so let's not waste anymore time than we have."
"Where are we going, Mrs. Malfoy?" Sylvia said.
"Diagon Alley, to have you fitted for some new clothes. Can't have you running around like you belong in the North Pole." She chuckled.
Sylvia stood. "Actually, my step-mother and most of her side of the family are from the South Pole."
Narcissa stared at her for a moment before shaking her head. "My, Lucius wasn't joking when he said your upbringing was primeval."
She guided Sylvia and Draco toward the fireplace and took out a wooden stick. This one was in much better shape than the one Madam Baird had.
Sylvia pointed at it. "What are those sticks for, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"They're wands." Draco rolled his eyes with a scoff. "We use them to perform magic."
"Draco–" Narcissa said in a warning tone before returning her attention to Sylvia. "He is correct, and it won't be long until you both attain your own wands. Goodness, where has the time gone?"
Flicking her wand at the fireplace, Narcissa extinguished the flames. Sylvia stepped inside, her brow furrowed. From what she had seen so far, magic was very different from bending, and it became clearer why her step-family was so bewildered by her.
Narcissa took a handful of floo powder and threw it at their feet. "The Leaky Cauldron!"
Once again, Sylvia shut her eyes until the nauseating sensation stopped, and she could feel the ground beneath her feet. She heard Draco snicker and stuck her tongue out at him.
The three of them stepped out into a small pub. Since it was the late morning, the place was packed with people. Narcissa led Sylvia and Draco through the crowd and out of a side door into a cramped alleyway. She approached a brick wall and with her wand tapped a set of bricks in a specific order.
There was a slight rumble, and then the bricks peeled apart, revealing a shopping village. The surrounding buildings were quirky and old-fashioned, and the area was bustling with witches and wizards going about their day.
Sylvia's eyes widened. "Whoa."
Draco tugged on Narcissa's sleeve. "Mother, may we visit the Quidditch shop? I want to see the racing brooms."
"Of course, in a moment, Draco. We're here for Sylvia, don't forget." She smiled. "And now for our first stop, Twilfitt and Tatting's."
Narcissa led Sylvia and Draco to the south end of the alley and into a light blue building. The front of the shop was painted blue and speckled with silver, and the furnishings were quite lavish.
A thin, elderly woman walked out from the back room. "Hello, and welcome to Twilfitt–" She smiled. "Narcissa, and little Draco, too. It's so good to see you. How are you on this splendid day?"
"Just wonderful, Agnis." Narcissa ushered Sylvia in front of her. "I'm here to have Sylvia fitted from some new clothes."
Agnis glanced Sylvia over before gasping. "By Merlin's name, she isn't Renée granddaughter, is she?"
Narcissa nodded. "Lucius and I decided to take her in."
"Yes, of course. I recall reading about that incident at the Ministry in the Daily Prophet." Agnis smiled at Sylvia. "It's lovely to meet you, dear. I used to work with your grandmother. She was one of, if not the most famous fashion designer in all of Magical France."
"Really?" Sylvia's eyes brightened with curiosity. "Do you know where she is, ma'am?"
"I'm sorry, dear. Renée passed away a few years ago." Agnis sighed. "The poor thing. She was never the same after your mother's death."
"Oh." Sylvia lowered her head.
"Don't be sad, dear. We've all suffered our losses from that tedious war." Agnis looked at Narcissa. "Now, what did you have in mind?"
The next thing Sylvia knew, she was standing on a pedestal in front of a full length mirror while Agnis measured her. Narcissa was selecting fabrics, and Draco was sulking in the corner, his arms folded and his face kneaded into a scowl.
"My, my, you're definitely going to take after your mother and grandmother. The boys will be absolutely mad for you," Agnis said.
Sylvia stuck out her tongue. "Boys are icky."
She saw Draco sneer at her through the reflection. "You're one to talk. Your mother and grandmother must've looked like goblins."
"Behavior, children." Narcissa narrowed her eyes at them.
"No need to worry, Narcissa. They're always like that at this age." Agnis chuckled. "But you should consider yourself fortunate, Sylvia. You'll be able to make a good marriage, and if it interests you, you may have a future in the fashion industry."
"Uh, thank you, ma'am," Sylvia said.
She examined her reflection. Icy blue eyes stared back at her, which stuck out in contrast to her light brown skin. Her dark, curly hair, when down, reached her lower back, and her body was average for a child, who spent their time playing outside all day. She had never thought much of her appearance, and the idea of being some great beauty only made her bashful.
Narcissa walked over with two fabrics in her arms. One was a thick, black velvet, and the other was fine and white with lace on the ends.
"This'll be for the first one." She gestured toward the other fabrics she had lined up. "I'll need five. One for formal occasions, one nightgown, and three for casual. Oh, and make them adjustable since she might grow over the next year."
"Yes, this'll make a lovely dress," Agnis said.
Sylvia was forced to stand still while Agnis designed each outfit. Every now and then she was directed where to place her arms or to face a different direction. After what felt like an eternity, everything was finished, and Sylvia and Draco exited the shop while Narcissa bid a farewell to Agnis. Narcissa headed down the steps, a large shopping bag in her hand.
Draco pouted. "Mother."
"All right." Narcissa sighed. "We'll visit the Quidditch shop."
Sylvia rolled her eyes, for Draco's behavior reminded her of Kya and Bumi. They were always fighting for the most attention, especially after Tenzin was born. She'd be lying if she said she didn't get jealous as well, but she compensated by bossing her siblings around.
Heading back up the alley, the three of them arrived at Quality Quidditch Supplies. Draco grinned as wide as his face would allow and rushed over to the shop. Through the windows, Sylvia saw an assortment of elaborate broomsticks.
She raised an eyebrow. "You're excited about cleaning stuff?"
"No, dear." Narcissa laughed. "These brooms are not for cleaning. We use them to fly."
"Is that safe?" Sylvia said.
"Well, all magic comes with its risks, but yes it's safe." Narcissa nodded. "And both of you remember to keep your hands to yourselves."
"Yes, Mother," Draco said.
"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy." Sylvia followed him inside.
There were broomsticks of various brands and purposes. Along the walls were gloves, helmets, and other accessories. None of it impressed Sylvia, for she had trouble picturing herself flying on something she normally used to clean underneath her bed. Draco entered the racing broom section and gravitated to the shiniest one in the room.
"The Nimbus Two-Thousand." He smiled, mesmerized. "It's supposed to be the fastest broom yet."
"What is Quidditch?" Sylvia said.
"You really are out of touch, aren't you? Quidditch is the best sport there is." Draco smirked. "I plan on joining the team once we're at school."
Sylvia examined the broomstick. "You must be really good."
He tilted his head up with pride. "My father says I'm a natural."
Narcissa walked over to them. "All right, dears. Why don't we have ourselves some lunch?"
"Mother, I want a Nimbus Two-Thousand," Draco said.
"Draco, you already have enough brooms at home." Narcissa led them out of the shop. "Now come on. Let's not dawdle."
The final stop was a fancy cafe. The food was very different than what Sylvia was used to, and she settled for some small sandwiches and water.
"Mrs. Malfoy–" Sylvia furrowed her brow. "You knew my mother?"
"Yes." Narcissa sighed. "Adela and I met at Hogwarts when I began my second year. We were quite close for a time, but things changed. Once we were adults, our friendship drifted apart."
"Do you know what happened to my parents during the war?" she said.
"I'm sorry, Sylvia." Narcissa shook her head. "I didn't learn of your parents' deaths until after the Dark Lord was defeated."
She raised an eyebrow. "The Dark Lord?"
"You-Know-Who, you nit." Draco glared at her. "Honestly, do you know anything about our world at all?"
"No." Sylvia shrunk back in her chair.
"That's enough, Draco." Narcissa gave him a stern look. "It's not her fault that she fell into the hands of muggles, but not to worry, Sylvia. I'll see to it myself that you don't suffer your parents' fate."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," She said.
….
That night, Sylvia prepared for bed and walked over to the dresser in her new room. She put on a white nightgown, and removed her ornaments, leaving her hair down. She glanced at the canopy bed on the other side of the room, but she wasn't in the mood for sleep. Too much had happened in such a short time, and it was hard to process.
The fireplace roared brightly, warming the room. She walked over to the windowsill and sat down. Snowflakes fell outside, making her feel homesick. Her gaze drew up toward the clouds where she could see a faint silhouette of the half-full moon.
"Things could be worse." Sylvia bowed. "Oh great Moon Spirit, thank you for watching over and protecting me. Please look after my step-family while I'm gone. I know they're probably upset with me, but please let them know I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt them."
She wasn't sure what to think of the Malfoys. It was pure luck that, in this strange world of magic, she had found some people willing to be so kind to her.
"I'll do my best not to burden them," Sylvia said.
A crash of metal echoed outside in the hallway, followed by nervous muttering. Rushing to the door, she opened it and saw Dobby hastily picking up silverware from the tray he dropped.
"Here. Let me help you." She picked up the knives that had fallen next to her door.
Dobby stared at her with wide eyes while she placed the knives on the tray.
"Uh, th–thank you, Miss." He bowed his head. "Dobby is sorry for disturbing you."
He took out a rusted nail and looked like he was about to stab his hand with it. However, Sylvia snatched it from him before he could.
"What are you doing, Miss? Dobby must punish himself for his clumsiness." He trembled. "Unless Miss wants to punish Dobby herself?"
"No, I'm not going to hurt you." She furrowed her brow. "And you shouldn't hurt yourself. It was just an accident. Now let's get this cleaned up."
Sylvia retrieved the remaining silverware while Dobby watched her in silence. Once she had everything placed on the tray, she handed it to him.
"See. No big deal." She smiled.
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss." He bowed again. "But Dobby shouldn't be surprised. Miss is a member of the Water Tribe."
She gasped. "You know about the Water Tribe?"
Before Dobby could answer, Draco opened his door and narrowed his groggy eyes at the two of them.
"What's all the commotion? I'm trying to sleep," he said.
Dobby jumped, almost dropping the tray again. "Forgive Dobby, Young Master. Dobby was clumsy, and Miss was helping."
Draco glared at him. "Well, be more careful, or else my parents will hear about this."
"Dobby understands." He shook his head, his voice quivering. "Dobby will not disturb Young Master and Miss again."
He scurried down the hall, making sure not to drop anything while they were watching.
"Sorry about him. House-elves are useful, but they can also be real pains in the arse," Draco said.
Sylvia folded her arms. "You didn't have to scare him like that. It was only an accident."
"You have to be firm with their kind." He scoffed. "Otherwise, they'd never get anything done."
"That doesn't give you an excuse to be mean. Including to me. I know you don't want me here, but your parents took me in." She frowned. "Deal with it."
Draco eyed her for a moment, and then gave a small laugh. "So you do have some venom in you. I suppose having you around won't be that bad." He yawned. "Anyway, I'm returning to bed."
"Goodnight, Draco," she said.
He paused in the doorway. "Goodnight, Sylvia."
He shut the door without another word, and Sylvia returned to her room.
